Devil's Trill Sonata
by Sightless Angels
Summary: The Thief King makes a deal with the devil himself.


**A/N: **Okay, this was started while listening to the Devil's Trill. watch?v=z7rxl5KsPjs  
I was like "I could picture Zorc playing this somehow" and thus this story was born.

I really need to write something completely happy for the Thief King one of these days. Remorse doesn't count because it was not in his point of view.

The sound of the violin woke me from my slumber in the tattered remains of my soul room. I pushed myself up on my forearms and knees, feeling woozy and sick. My dull gaze took in the sight of my soul room. Most of it was covered in thick, pulsating shadows.  
Diabound, my ka, was almost more like skeletal remains than the once pure, magnificent creature I had always been familiar with. Its leathery, scaled flesh clung to each bone, and hung off in other places. I wanted to reach out to his ka, but the violin's curious tune held most of my attention.  
I staggered to my feet, feeling heavy.. The tune was slow and made me feel like I was walking in a dreamy haze to its siren call. My feet dragged across the ground toward the strange hole in the soul room that led to pure darkness.  
I didn't want to pass through the opening, though I couldn't quite recall why. I'd slumbered for so long that my mind, my memories were fragmented. Not even my own name could really jump out in my thoughts.  
The tune jumped, speeding up to quick, almost sharp notes. The sound, while enchanting, grated on my nerves. My hands slammed over my ears, attempting to muffle the sound as my feet carried me further from the only remaining untarnished part of my soul room.  
The darkness engulfed me instantly when I stepped through the opening. I felt it forcing its way into my pores, filling my body. My lungs felt flooded, as if I were drowning in the Nile. My nails clawed at my throat as I struggled to breathe, even though I'd died long ago.  
The ground disappeared from beneath my feet, though I didn't start falling. I hung there in the darkness as it enveloped my senses, pulsing with each strung of the violin bow. The sound thrummed in my veins, each note reverberating in my pulse.  
I dangled helplessly like a marionette within the void. I couldn't even see where the sound was coming from. My head dropped back against my shoulders, exhaustion weighing on me. Any fight I'd once had inside of me had been swallowed up by the invasive darkness.  
What should I fight for if I couldn't remember much of anything?  
A golden glimmer materialized within the darkness. As if possessed, I reached up and wrapped my fingers around it. A golden ring with five dangling cones solidified in his hold. So familiar, so painful. An ache tore at my chest, and the darkness poisoning my veins seemed to quiver with excitement.  
I stared at the engraving within the center of the ring. It was shaped like an eye. An eerie glow emanated from the center of it. The sound of screams rang in my ears, drowning out the violin. I glanced around, but the darkness showed nothing.  
I was floating there alone. The only light was the ring in my hands. Slowly, my gaze dropped down to the icy gold. Emotion welled up inside of me. Anger, pain, grief, sorrow. I didn't know why I felt this way. It hated that I couldn't remember.  
The cones vibrated and pointed toward me. The glow expanded outward from the center of the ring, encompassing the cones and then me.  
Before my eyes, I saw faceless people being slaughtered. Men, women, children - infants and the elderly - all being boiled down in a pot of gold and reshaped into artifacts of terrible power. I could hear their screams, smell the gore. I could even taste the coppery tang of blood and gold in the air. I saw royal soldiers acting like monsters as they severed life after life.  
My people… Oh Ra, they'd once been my people.  
My family, my friends - my village hunted down like animals to be used as jewelry and props of power. My dead disrespected repeatedly, used to serve the ones who condemned them to purgatory.  
Why? Because we were thieves who stole from the tombs we'd once built, trying to survive after the throne turned their backs on us. No one would miss us...  
My lungs burned as I struggled to breathe. Anger and resentment burned inside of me, igniting my thirst for vengeance. I needed to save them from this fate. I needed to rip the pharaoh apart….  
The sound of the violin pierced through the sound of my village's screams. I looked up and I saw a massive figure appear, welding the musical instrument. I didn't know how I knew what it was - it didn't exist in my time - but the knowledge was planted there inside of my head.  
The shadows parted, revealing the figure. The demonic creature's eyes were closed, its body swaying to the song it was playing. Curved horns sat on top of its head, bat-like wings sprouting out between its broad shoulders, and a dragon-headed appendage jutting out between its legs.  
Revulsion curdled my stomach. "Zorc," I whispered, fishing the name out of the remains of my memory.  
The demon opened its eyes, revealing beady red eyes. If it had lips, I was certain that it would have been smiling at the sound of its name.  
"My dear little Thief," Zorc crooned, finishing the final notes of the piece he'd been playing. "A suitable host has been found for us. Shall we continue our work?" He released the violin, letting it fall to the ground and held out a clawed hand to me. "Shall we free your people?"  
The screams were more white noise in my ears, but I knew each scream, and who it belonged to even if their faces were lost to me. "They're suffering," he whispered.  
"They have. All these years. They've been waiting for you to come and avenge them."  
I hugged myself. The darkness inside the remains of my soul thrummed, feeding off of my emotions. "Help me save them," I whispered, reaching out. For my village, I was willing to make a deal with the devil incarnate over and over.  
Zorc's hand wrapped around mind, squeezing tightly. He turned into violet fog and surrounded me. There was no fighting Zorc. Before I had no reason to fight anything. Now, I had a reason to not fight him. I kept a small piece of myself locked away from him, tucked in the furthest part of my soul room, but allowed the rest of me to become his weapon.  
Until the pharaoh was gone and the doors of darkness were open, there was no more me.  
I was Zorc, and he was me...


End file.
